Kiss The Girl
by TheyCallMeGoose
Summary: It's just a normal boat ride back to Low Town from the Gallows, so why is Fenris so twitchy? Drabble-length oneshot inspired by the 'Kiss the Girl' scene in The Little Mermaid. Extremely fluffy.


_Hello all! I've recently decided to rework all the oneshots I've posted (my old followers should check out my updated profile... and not kill me please?), and this is the new and improved Kiss The Girl.  
><em>_There's not a great many changes - a different tense and typo corrections mostly_, though there may still be some mistakes - apologies if there are_. It needed doing however, and now that it's done I can focus on other projects. :P  
><em>_(Yes, before you ask, I've copied this message into all my updated oneshots.)_

_So for new readers, enjoy! and for those who have read this before, enjoy it again if you wish. :D_

-x-

Dim, fading sunlight and mindless chatter from Varric and Merrill fills the evening air around her, relaxing her as easily as the gentle rock of the boat they sit in. Ahead of her the lights of the houses lining the Lowtown docks twinkle merrily, and the faint sound of the stall vendors chatting and laughing as they pack away for the night reaches her ears. It feels like any other night after leaving a meeting with Meredith; a few insults are passed back and forth about the severe woman, but mostly they're all lost in deep thought over the trouble the Knight-Commander is causing with her never-ending mission to control mages. She suspects that to the two friends chatting behind her the night is no different, yet her own thoughts drift further and further away from the conversations held in the Gallows. One specific matter has wormed its way into her head and now squats happily at the front of her mind, demanding to be worried over - a matter concerning the troubled elf sat beside her.

Fenris has been acting rather odd for days – at least, more so than usual – and his manner has been particularly unusual today. The elf's usual stoic manner has switched to one of near-constant fidgeting, stumbling over words, and a very uncharacteristic absent-mindedness. It has really begun to unnerve her. Currently he sits rigidly beside her on the thin plank of wood posing as a seat in the boat, his only movement an incessant picking at a red sash of ribbon secured around his left wrist. Her gaze fixes on it and she find herself wondering, and not for the first time, what the token means to him.

"Marian?"

The soft mutter of her rarely used forename slips unexpectedly from the warrior's lips, startling her out of her thoughts. Eyes darting from his hands up to his face, she realises that he's been watching her just as intently, just as unwaveringly, his striking green eyes positively glowing with obvious uncertainty and nerves. A smile comes to her easily and she attempts to encourage him to ask or say whatever has clearly been troubling him for days with a simple nod.

Silence is all that meets her at first. He scans her face for longer than necessary, searching her expression for the answer to an unspoken question without speaking a word. Finally his attention slips away from her and his gaze locks on the floor of the small boat before he opens his mouth.

"I've had something on my mind and I fear I cannot contain it much longer. A feeling, or perhaps a need. I would be a fool to deny it, or to deny how much it frightens me." He pauses and runs his tongue over his dry lips. Her periwinkle eyes track the motion hungrily, and she's forced to squash the growing urge to wet his lips with her own tongue. It would not do to think of such things now, or to remember a passionate night from years long passed.

"Do you need to talk about it?" she asks in a quiet voice, wisely deciding against placing her hand on his lyrium-etched arm, certain that such a gesture would be unwelcome and poorly received right now.

"Yes, but not now. Soon…" He breathes in deeply and returns his gaze to her face. His expression is soft, warm, and his eyes hold a longing and affection that shocks her to her core. He hasn't looked at her like that since that night - could she dare to hope? Her breath catches in her throat ever so slightly as she realises his face is moving closer. He is slowly and _oh so_ cautiously leaning towards her. He's so close that she can clearly see the light dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose, the gentle streaks of yellow in the green of his eyes, the barely perceptible flow of soft blue lyrium in the twists of his faintly glowing markings. His breath is warm against her mouth, betraying how tantalisingly close his own is, and her eyelids begin to slip shut. Her heart races wildly like a frenzied stallion, and for a second that feels more like an eternity their lips brush...

The sudden jolt of the boat knocking into the wall of the harbour startles them out of their trance, both of them jumping to their feet and gasping in surprise. Two sets of bewildered eyes flick up to meet they amused eyes of their forgotten companions, watching them without shame. Fenris clears his throat embarrassedly and flees from the boat, and Marian's pale skin darkens to a light rose as she looks away in distress. Varric lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.

"Come on, Daisy, I'll treat you to a few drinks at the Hanged Man."

The two friends leave the boat surprisingly quickly and head in the direction of their favourite tavern, the elven girl laughing giddily as they go, causing Marian's blush to deepen further. She runs a shaking hand through her hair in an attempt to calm herself and turns to step out of the boat, intent on returning to her estate and hiding from Varric and Merrill for a few days. She nearly trips out of the boat in amazement when a lyrium-lined hand stretches out in front of her. She looks up into Fenris' smiling face, greedily drinks in the rare serene expression and accepts his help. _Soon_, she thinks to herself with a bright grin, and begins to hope.


End file.
